Up is Down
by bird by snow
Summary: What if the only way to save everyone from the Kraken was to sacrifice Elizabeth and doom her to an eternity in the locker? AU, Sparrabeth.
1. Part 1

A/N: The idea for this story came to me while I was watching DMC. I wondered how it would be if Elizabeth's and Jack's roles were reversed. What would Elizabeth's stint in the locker be like? How would Jack deal with his actions? Could Elizabeth forgive him? The story picks up towards the end of DMC, although obviously some of the timeline and events have been tweaked to fit the story.

* * *

Jack's plan had been blown apart at the seams and now it was too late to salvage any scrap of it. His overestimation of everyone and everything involved had been his downfall. He had been so sure that he would find the chest. So sure that Will would find the key. But none of it mattered now.

His crew was scrambling busily around on deck. Smoldering chunks of Kraken were hindering their movements, but they had managed to load the one remaining longboat with provisions and were currently in the process of lowering it into the water. Their distraction gave him a chance to say his goodbyes.

Jack ran his hand along the smooth wood making up the mast. There would be other ships, he knew, but none as fast or as storied as his beloved _Black Pearl_. He hated that he couldn't save her from Davy Jones this time. Jack recalled the last time when he was a naïve young sailor that bargained with Jones, refusing to make any deal unless it involved raising his ship from the ocean's floor. Jones eventually caved and Jack and the _Pearl_ each had thirteen extra years in which to sail free, though not always together.

Now it was time to make good on his bargain and face the devil once more. Only, history would not be repeating itself today, at least, not for Jack. Today the _Pearl_ would be sinking without him at the helm. This time, he had found another way out.

A hand rested lightly on his shoulder, bringing him out of his thoughts. It was Elizabeth. "Jack?" she asked, "Are you coming? We don't have much time left."

Jack turned so that he faced her. Could he really do this? He had no choice, he reminded himself. Elizabeth would hate him and he'd have to square with his actions before a higher power one day, but at least that day wouldn't be today. He brushed a few wind-blown strands of hair out of her eyes and tucked them behind her ear. She gave him a puzzled look in return.

"I should've left you in Tortuga," he murmured.

"Because it's bad luck to have a woman on board?" she nervously joked. But Jack didn't respond. It may have been bad luck from her perspective, but it was good luck from his. "I would've stowed away and you'd have been stuck with me anyway," she told him confidently. "Besides, we're not dead yet. I have faith that you'll find us a way out of this. After all, you're Captain Jack Sparrow." She smiled and it made him feel worse knowing that she trusted him.

He could only nod in agreement; she was right about the one thing at least. "I am that, love." He was a pirate, a scoundrel, and a scallywag. This was the opportune moment he'd been waiting for. He had only to render Elizabeth unconscious so he could flee, but for some reason he found his focus being redirected. His gaze was drawn to her lips and he found himself overcome with the desire to kiss her. He knew that after today he'd never have another chance. He was already going to hell, he figured he might as well make it worth his while. He had to know what she tasted like.

Tenderly, cautiously, at first he pressed his lips against hers, backing her into the mast. In the back of his mind, he thought she should be protesting instead of returning his hungry kiss, but he was enjoying himself too much to care. She tasted like honey and he had to have more. He burrowed one hand into her hair and deepened the kiss. He swore he heard her moan into her mouth. He ran his hand down the length of her left arm and deftly encircled her wrist with one of the iron manacles attached to the mast. The sound of it clicking into a locked position pulled them both out of their reverie.

Chaos was going on around them, the crew was yelling and rushing to abandon ship before the Kraken came back, but both of them just stood there, paralyzed, wondering what had just happened between them. Jack hadn't expected the kiss to be so passionate. He expected it to be a quick thing he could use as a distraction. He expected her to struggle or shout out. But instead, she gave him a look that made him feel like he was the only person in the world. And he stared back, unaware that the universe was coming apart around him. If this had been another place, or another time—

"Hurry up, you two!" Mr. Gibbs' shout startled them both. Jack glanced over his shoulder and saw Gibbs was climbing down the ladder already. "We're about to cast off!"

Jack turned back to Elizabeth. He didn't have time for regrets. "Beastie's after you and the _Pearl_, not me. Not _us_," he quickly amended.

She nodded and simply said, "I know." Her expression was steeled and Jack couldn't tell if she was upset with him or not.

"I'm not—" _Sorry_, he wanted to say. He wasn't sorry. Captain Jack Sparrow did what he had to do and didn't apologize for it. He gazed deep into her beautiful, intense brown eyes and realized with a pang of guilt that they would never look back at him again. He suddenly felt like he owed her an explanation. "A good man," he finished. "I'm not a good man." He hoped it would be enough.

Elizabeth grinned. "Yes, you are," she insisted.

Damn her, why did she have to believe in him? He probably could stillsave her if he worked fast. But he made no move to take her place. Instead, he kissed her again, hoping to make her forget about her impending death. It was the only comfort he could give her.

When he broke the kiss, he ran quickly toward the longboat. He forced himself not to look up at her as he climbed down the rope ladder.

"Where's Elizabeth?" Mr. Gibbs asked once Jack was seated.

"She elected to stay behind to give us a chance," he replied. The others looked stunned, but Jack offered no further details. They looked unsure of how to proceed. "Row!" Jack barked at his belligerent crew and they finally cast off.

XXX

Elizabeth stood alone on the deck of the doomed Black Pearl, and instead of feeling fear or panic, she was grinning like an idiot. She had won the battle of wits. Jack showed her his hand and revealed that he felt for her what she was slowly realizing she felt for him. For a long time she had tried to deny it, but after meeting up with him again in Tortuga, she felt the torch she carried for him burning brighter than before.

In the year since they had parted ways, she'd thought of him often. She tried to convince herself that he was a despicable, dishonorable man, who lacked all sense of decency. It didn't usually work, though, because her mind was quick to remind her that he had saved her, twice. Once from drowning and once from being shot by Barbossa.

Now Jack had proved himself to be a good man yet again by trying to save her when she had instead expected him to seize the opportunity to run. After all, it wasn't like he cared much for her in the first place. Or so she had thought.

When Davy Jones had inexplicably announced that Elizabeth would be the one marked with the black spot if Jack failed to get the one hundred souls, Jack had been visibly shocked. Elizabeth knew that her involvement had not been a part of his plan. Jack recovered quickly, however, and assured her that everything would be fine. And until a moment ago, he had given her no reason not to trust him. Jack had faced their situation with a seriousness that she had never seen in him before. The crew searched hard and fast for the Dead Man's Chest for three days, but still turned up nothing. Elizabeth didn't think Jack slept once during that time.

She wondered if Will had ever found the key. Jack had been adamant that he would succeed because Will believed she was still Beckett's prisoner. Poor Will, she thought. He would be crushed when he found out what had really happened to her.

That was all the time Elizabeth had to reflect on her past because the _Pearl_ start to rock and the thumping against the hull could only mean one thing, the Kraken was back. Wild ideas filled her head. She looked down at her wrist and flexed her hand open and closed. It was the hand that bore Jones' mark. Maybe she could just chop it off and throw it to the Kraken and then sail away. No, that was a foolish idea. She would never manage to hack through her wrist in time, and the Kraken was after the _Pearl_ too. There had to be another way. She examined the manacle. The cuff had been made for a man. She could probably get her slender wrist out with not much effort. She twisted her hand, tucked her thumb into her palm, and pulled free of the mast.

It was a short-lived triumph. The squid-like creature surfaced and loomed up over the starboard side of the ship. That's when the panic set in. She couldn't do this. She shouldn't be here, it wasn't right. She didn't want to die, damn it! Regret hit her like a rogue wave. Why had she just kissed Jack instead of struggling against him or screaming out to the crew? Why?

Because it wouldn't have done any good, she knew. She would've just doomed them all. Mr. Gibbs, Marty, all of them would've died along side her if she had gone with them in that longboat. She wouldn't want that on her conscience for an eternity. She'd like to think that given the choice, she would've stayed behind of her own volition and saved the crew. She would've saved Jack.

She wiped the tears from her eyes and drew her sword as the Kraken's mouth opened. She thought it would eat her up immediately, but instead it made a noise that could only be described as a burp, and the stench of death filled her nostrils. It was a disgusting, nausea-inducing event, and to make matters worse, a spray of foul slime so hideous, that it made Davy Jones' handshake seem clean, accompanied it.

She looked down at herself. She was absolutely covered in the substance and was trying very hard not to think about it being the digested remains of victims past. At her feet was something she wasn't expecting. It was Jack's hat. The one he'd said he'd lost overboard. The one he didn't seem the same without. She picked it up and shook off as much of the slop as possible and placed it squarely on her head. It was a little big, but it gave her the courage and strength she needed to face the demon head-on. If she was going down with the ship, she might as well do it Captain Jack Sparrow style.

"Hello, Beastie," she called out to the advancing Kraken, "If you want me, come and get me!"

XXX

Halfway to shore, the passengers in the longboat saw the _Flying Dutchman_ sailing fast towards the _Pearl_. The crew nervously picked up their rowing pace, just in case Jones decided to pay them a visit as well. But he didn't, and before long, the tentacles of the Kraken encased the ship. It pulled it down with a creak and groan that could be heard for miles. The sound went right through Jack, making him shudder and he could watch no more. He felt ill.

There was silence and he assumed it was over. He looked back and saw the ocean where the ship had been—where _Elizabeth_ had been, and it was calm, showing no signs of a disturbance. Mr. Gibbs crossed himself. Ragetti sniffled and rubbed the tears from his good eye.

"Bless you Elizabeth Swann. Brave as they come," Mr. Gibbs said.

"We'll miss you, Poppet," Pintel added, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

"We won't never forget this, neither," Ragetti said.

"You alright, Jack?" Mr. Gibbs asked him softly.

Jack ignored the question. "There was a port on the map to the east of us. It's too far to make it before sunset. We'll sleep here and head for civilization in the morning."

"Aye, Cap'n."

"And maybe you could—" Jack gestured with his hand, but choked on his request. He wanted Gibbs to say a few words, like he did whenever they lost a crewman. Jack didn't hold much stake in religious traditions, but his crew did and Elizabeth probably did as well. "You're so fond of talking anyway, mate, I just thought…"

Mr. Gibbs nodded in understanding. "As soon as we're settled, I'll gather the lads."

XXX

Jack joined his five surviving crewmen as they stood along the shore, facing the ocean as the sun began to set. The others bowed their heads and Gibbs began his speech. "Goddess Calypso, today you received one of our beloved brethren," he said. "She was naught but a little thing when she first heard your call to the sea, and although it was only a short time ago that she was able to act on it, we are grateful that she did. She was like an angel sent to save us, and now we pray that you, dear Goddess, keep her safe and see that she always has wind in her sails and a of bottle rum in her hand. Amen."

Jack found that at some point, he too had bowed his head. Next to him, he heard three quiet 'Amens' and the squawk of one parrot in response. They stood there for a moment longer, in silence, until they heard someone shout from down the beach. They all turned in the direction of the noise. Will was striding toward them at a quick pace.

"Jack!" Will shouted again, "I found the key!"

"Go get the fire going," Jack ordered the others. He didn't want them to witness this if it went badly. Only Gibbs stayed behind.

Will came closer still. "Did you hear me?" he asked. "Jones never suspected a thing. It's right here." He pulled the key out from under his shirt and showed them.

"Doesn't matter anymore," Jack told him, wishing that Will would drop the subject, but knowing he wouldn't.

"We had a deal, you can't go back on it," Will replied sternly.

"I can if the situation changed," Jack said. "You no longer need the compass. Elizabeth's gone."

"What do you mean 'Elizabeth's gone'? She was never here. I told you, she's being held captive back home."

"She escaped from Beckett's men and came out to sea to tell you," Mr. Gibbs explained. "We met up with her in Tortuga right after we left you with Jones."

"So, where is she now?" Will wondered.

"Jones gave her the black spot," Mr. Gibbs answered.

"Jack's black spot?" Will asked. "Why would he do that?"

"Because he's a cruel bastard," Jack said bitterly.

"And then what happened?" Will asked, looking slightly more panicked. Neither Jack nor Gibbs said anything. "Jones released me," Will said slowly and Jack knew he was beginning to figure it out. "He said your debt was paid… Where is she?" He grabbed Jack by the shoulders and shook him. "Jack, where's Elizabeth?!"

"The Kraken took her," was all Jack could reply.

"No…"

"She died a hero's death, son," Mr. Gibbs said, trying to cheer him up. "Sacrificing herself so that we could get away."

But Will didn't appear to hear him. "This is your fault, Jack! That was your debt she paid! _You_ should be in the locker, not _her_!"

"A rather fortuitous turn of events for me, wouldn't you say?" Jack saw Will's punch coming, but made no move to block it or get out of its path. He deserved this, and so much more.

When Jack woke up, he found himself lying under the shelter the crew had built to keep themselves dry from the approaching rain. Will was sitting the farthest away from him and seemed to have calmed down some, although he was now keeping himself occupied by throwing around a dangerous looking dagger.

Seeing that he was awake, Pintel offered Jack a chunk of bread and a piece of salt pork. Jack refused. He didn't think he'd be able to keep it down. Instead, Jack sat and watched the fire, feeling like a haunted man. He was plagued by his memories, by the rising feeling of guilt, and by the overwhelming sorrow he felt. Wait, where had _that_ come from? Why was he so afflicted by Elizabeth's death? He'd lost plenty of men before and never shed a tear over one of them. That's all Elizabeth was, right? One of the crew?

It was too much for him to sit still. He left the others sitting by the fire and slunk off into the drizzle. He paced up and down the length of the beach in order to clear his mind. Three days, he was given three whole days and he still failed. He played back the events in his head, trying to figure when his plan had started to go all pear-shaped.

Everything had been going fine, he remembered. They had left Will at the shipwreck so that he would encounter Jones then sped away to safety. Jack had not wanted to be anywhere in the general vicinity when Jones showed up. They re-supplied the ship in Tortuga, and were about to leave again when Elizabeth found them while on her search for Will. But that wasn't a bad thing. Elizabeth knew her way around the ship and some of the crew—Mr. Gibbs—might have insinuated once or twice that Jack had missed her in the past year. So, he offered to take her with him.

But as they sailed past the confines of Tortuga's harbor in search of the chest, the _Dutchman _came into view and Jones appeared on the _Pearl's_ deck faster than Jack could order them to turn back. The only option left was to sweet talk Jones, and _that's_ where things first started to go horribly wrong.

XXX

"_One hundred souls, three days," Jones offered him._

_Jack knew it was an impossible feat. He could never round up that many willing people or even condemn them all if he managed it, but it didn't matter. He was only stalling for time. Will had been on the _Dutchman_ for two days now, he must have found the key. Now they only needed the chest. He was so close to victory. _

"_Great, send me back the boy and we'll get started."_

_Jones shook his head and his tentacles swayed back in forth in protest. "I keep the boy as insurance. He will be freed after I get my payment."_

_A minor setback. Will could take care of himself for three more days. Jack would just have to wait and get the key then. "Terrific, should we seal it in blood? I mean, uh, ink?" He extended his hand to Jones so that he could remove the black spot for the time being._

_Jones took Jack's hand, but instead of letting go, he held it and stared at Jack with a penetrating gaze for an unnaturally long time. Jack felt a strange sensation. It was as if Jones was reading his mind. Finally Jones blinked and the feeling was gone._

_A triumphant grin appeared on Jones' face. "Bring me the girl!" he ordered to his crew._

_"What for?!" Jack exclaimed, mind reeling at all the horrific possibilities. "She's terrible company," he tried, " Complains like you wouldn't believe. And she's no good on deck either, doesn't know stern from starboard. You don't want her."_

_Jones chuckled at Jack's transparent attempt to dissuade him. "Not for my crew I don't."_

_Two crewmembers dragged a protesting Elizabeth through the crowd and pushed her in front of Jones. "I demand that you let me go!" she told him fiercely. "I have absolutely nothing to do with this, I merely came out here to rescue Will. Jack, tell him!" She looked desperately toward him._

_But it wouldn't matter what Jack said, his words were next to useless on Jones. "It'll be alright, love," he lied, forcing his lips into what he hoped was a reassuring smile._

_They all watched as Jones took Elizabeth's hand and held it tightly. "Whether or not it will be alright depends solely on the actions of Captain Sparrow," he told her, releasing his grip. "And whether or not he keeps his end of the bargain."_

_Elizabeth snatched her hand back and wiped the slime off onto Jack's coat sleeve. "Disgusting," she muttered to him._

_"If you were thinking you could best me, Sparrow, think again," Jones warned ominously. "Maybe you'll finally learn that when you make a deal with the devil, there's no way to win." _

_Jack caught Elizabeth's hand and turned it palm up. They watched as the black spot appeared and then slowly faded to an almost imperceptible light pink, like a scar. In the realm of possibilities, this wasn't the worst. Yes, the spot would come back, but he'd have the heart by then and could order Jones to call off his pet. Everything would be fine, he told himself. Assuming they found the chest._

_Jones leaned in and whispered in his ear, "Three days to decide, Jack. Your soul or hers. It doesn't matter to me, it will destroy you either way." He patted him on the shoulder and then he was gone._

XXX

Jack went over it again like a mad man, desperate to understand. What made Jones so certain of his victory? Surely he knew what Jack was capable of, or even possibly, knew what Jack was planning. Why then had Jones confidently granted him extra time if he knew there was even the slightest of possibilities that the heart could be found?

The realization struck Jack like a cannonball to the chest. What if the heart _couldn't_ be found and Jones knew _that_? "Bloody hell," he sighed heavily. Jones had been toying with him the whole time. There really was no way he could've won. He had gambled big time and it was Elizabeth that paid dearly for it.

There was a splash a few yards off shore and Jack turned sharply to look. Nothing. Must have been a fish jumping. He continued pacing and walked right into a member of Jones' crew. He drew his sword and backed up.

"You know you can't kill me," the barnacled fishman said.

"Aye, but I can cut you up into pieces so small I'd be long gone before you reassembled yourself. Sounds like fun, eh?" Jack was in the mood for a fight.

"I bring a message."

"Of course you do, but you'll excuse me if I don't want to shake your han—flipper."

"I don't bring the black spot," he replied, shaking his head. "I'm here to congratulate you on forestalling death once again. The captain also wants you to know that you're a crueler man than he took you for. He never expected that you'd condemn the woman you love to a lifetime of imprisonment while you roam free."

"The woman I what?" In love with Elizabeth? What an absurd notion. One that certainly didn't come from _his_ mind. "Tell Jones that _I_ said he needs to work on his mind reading skills. Got me confused with the whelp."

The fishman did not care, however, and continued on with his message, "You can't cheat death forever, Sparrow. Your luck will run out eventually. And on that day the captain will come before you and there will be no hope for another deal. But he wants you to know that he will have the Kraken take you and spit your body out onto the _Pearl_'s deck next to the girl so that you can spend eternity together."

That didn't sound _too_ bad. "And here I thought the beastie would just chew me up and digest me," he rambled nervously.

"The Kraken merely a ferries the victims between here and the locker. It does not eat them."

"Well that's a relief."

Jack's remark agitated the fishman. "Make no mistake," he warned, "It is a tortured fate that awaits you. Your soul will live on for all eternity, knowing that your mortal body is close to, but unable to interact with, everything you love. It will eventually drive you mad."

Very interesting. Jack's mind worked a mile a minute. If Elizabeth was still alive out there somewhere, maybe there was hope. "Too late for that, mate," he told the crewman. "Haven't you heard the stories? Most people say I'm mad already. But thanks for dropping by, be sure to give Captain Squidface my regards."

He didn't wait around to hear the fishman's response. He ran back to the camp as fast as he could, stumbling in the sand and nearly tripping over a large piece of driftwood along the way.

"Mr. Gibbs!" he shouted as he approached his crew. Everyone turn to look at him in alarm. A few drew their pistols, probably assuming that some sort of trouble was following him.

"Aye?" Mr. Gibbs answered anxiously.

"How deep does your knowledge of the Davy Jones lore run?"

Mr. Gibbs relaxed slightly, but still looked confused. "Uh—"

"The locker is a physical place, is it not?" Jack asked impatiently.

Mr. Gibbs thought for a moment. "Well, yes and no. You see, while the Kraken carries your body to the locker, an actual place, your spirit floats around in the ether, all disconnected like and unable to pass on to the next realm."

"So, you don't die in the locker, then," Ragetti reasoned.

Will's attention was grabbed. "Elizabeth's not dead?"

"Of course Poppet's dead, her soul ain't connected to her body no more. Ergo, she ain't living," Pintel argued.

"But if she can't move on to Heaven then she ain't really dead," Ragetti argued back.

They all looked toward Mr. Gibbs for the answer and he seemed hesitant to give it. "Not dead, but not alive. She'll be forever living in the nightmare land that her mind creates. That's the curse of Davy Jones' locker."

"If that place is in this world, we can sail there," Jack said determinately.

"Is it possible?" Will desperately asked.

"I don't know," Mr. Gibbs replied. "The locker ain't located on any map we possess. It's probably one of those places that only someone who's been there can navigate us back to. And even if we did somehow manage to somehow find it, how would we reconnect body and mind once we got there?"

"That, Mr. Gibbs, is a question best answered by taking a trip up river," Jack said.

Mr. Gibbs grimaced. "Again?"

"Regrettably."


	2. Part 2

Elizabeth stood in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom and admired her reflection. Her hair had been perfectly styled by her maid and the elegant gown she was wearing was newly purchased for today's very special occasion. She should have been pleased with her appearance, but instead something was bothering her.

"Elizabeth, dear, are you ready?" Governor Swann called from outside her door. "Our guests are waiting."

"Coming father," she replied, giving herself one last look over. She tried adjusting the leather tri-cornered hat on her head to a more pleasing angle, but it didn't help. The hat felt wrong, even though she'd been assured it was the latest fashion back in England. Elizabeth blinked at the image in the mirror. No…it was more like the hat felt right and the _dress_ felt wrong. But that was silly. She shook off the feeling and headed downstairs.

Elizabeth entered the parlor to find three gentlemen lined up in front of her. These were the suitors that her father had handpicked for her to meet. She glanced down the line. They all looked the same to her: dark hair, dark eyes, and roughly the same height. None of them had any striking features as far as she could discern.

"Ah, Elizabeth," her father greeted her, interrupting her thoughts. "One of these men will hold your fate in his hands. I urge you to choose wisely, my dear. You'll have to live with your decision for the rest of your life."

Elizabeth glanced at them again, but their faces just blurred together in her mind even more. She turned back to her father. "But how will I know who to choose? These men are complete strangers to me."

"Are you certain?" He gestured toward the men and urged, "Look closely."

Elizabeth turned her attention back to the suitors and as she did, the features of the first man came into focus. He had dark brown eyes and his long black hair was neatly secured in a ponytail. He was dressed not unlike someone she would expect to meet working in one of the shops in town. He smiled kindly at her and she felt quite certain that they had met before.

Next to him was a strikingly handsome naval officer, who also had brown eyes. He was a commodore, she concluded from his uniform, and his face wore a stoic, proper expression. Again, she felt the same nagging sense of familiarity.

When her eyes finally settled on the last man, she had to fight the urge to let out a startled gasp. This man did not appear in any way proper, and she wondered why her father would have invited him into their home. The man's hands were filthy, his hair was in knots, and his shirt was open, exposing his bare chest to her view.

The man grinned and Elizabeth felt certain she had been caught admiring his body. She blushed and wanted to look away, but something about his playful gaze struck a chord in her. She stared at him curiously, thinking that she might know him as well, though she couldn't imagine where they would've met.

She turned and questioned her father with a confused look, but he offered no explanation. Instead, he presented her with a long black box. Elizabeth slowly opened the hinged lid and found a silver dagger nestled within the red velvet that lined the box. She picked it up and noticed a menacing skull had been carved into the handle. The knife felt unnaturally heavy in her hand.

"You know what you have to do," her father said.

And suddenly she did.

Elizabeth approached the first man, Will Turner. It was all coming back to her now. This man had been her fiancé. Her grip tightened on the dagger. "You loved who you thought I was, not who I really am," she announced, stabbing him swiftly in the gut. He slumped to the floor immediately.

She wiped the blood from the dagger off onto the hem of her skirt and walked over to the commodore, James Norrington. This man had also been her fiancé. "You only wanted me because I was beautiful, like a trophy to go with your medals," she stated, and dispatched him in the same manner, wiping the blade clean once more.

Finally, she reached the last man. His hair was adorned with many beads and small trinkets, but the top of his head was strangely empty, as though she had expected that he'd be wearing a hat. She stared at him, feeling sure she knew him, but couldn't recall his name. Had she been engaged to this man too?

She raised the dagger and positioned it above his heart, ready to plunge it in at a moments notice. "You…" she started, but was at a loss as to how he had wronged her.

"You don't want to do that, love," the man spoke. His voice reverberated into the very depths of her being.

"No?"

"No. You want to come with me. You want freedom," he said, like it was some kind of wonderful dream.

"Freedom," she repeated, still pointing the dagger at him. It sounded foreign when she said it. The man's breath smelled of rum and she found that oddly endearing. Why couldn't she remember his name?

The man grabbed her wrist and easily lowered the weapon to her side. Something about his imprisoning grip felt familiar. There was a flash and she recalled the salty taste of this man's mouth as he kissed her amidst chaos.

"Jack," she whispered. Was that his name? "Captain Jack Sparrow," she said, louder and more confidently.

And just like that, the spell broke.

Elizabeth looked down to see Will and James dead on the floor. She saw the blood on her dress and immediately dropped the dagger in her hand, horrified by her actions. "Oh god, what did I do?"

"You made your choice, my dear," her father said from behind her.

The room was spinning. She felt dizzy. "My choice?" Nothing made sense anymore.

Jack pulled her toward the door. "C'mon, love, time's a wasting. We have to make it back to the _Pearl _before she leaves."

"But I just killed—oh god," she looked away and stumbled along as she followed Jack out of the mansion. "How could I have done that? Jack, why did I kill them?" She wanted to sink down to the ground and cry, but he wouldn't let her. He held her up and made her keep walking.

"It was them or us, darling. That's the way the world works," he said resolutely. Shaking, and still in shock, she let him lead her away to meet an uncertain fate.

xxx

The muffled noise of a few rowdy patrons fighting in the tavern below roused Jack from his light sleep. He realized rather quickly, however, that he was in no danger and shut his eyes again, hoping that sleep would overtake him once more. But it was not meant to be. Instead, he laid awake on the lumpy mattress for quite some time, his mind intent on wandering in all the directions he didn't want it to go. He could still feel the dull ache of Elizabeth's loss and the guilt that accompanied it, present in the back of his head. It seemed that sleep hadn't erased any of that like he had hoped. The only thing it _had_ done was rid him of his drunkenness. And that just added to his already less than ideal situation.

Last night they'd taken up shelter in a busy tavern, which unfortunately had only had one room available for them all. Jack vaguely remembered making an arrangement with Gibbs wherein he would get the bed for the first watch and then they'd switch. It was an arrangement Jack hadn't planned on keeping at the time.

As he turned over and faced the chorus of snores coming from the floor below him, one thing became very clear. He wouldn't be getting any more sleep tonight. It would be better to use the time to plan a way off the island, he figured. He reached under his pillow and found his pistol, tucking it into his sash as he climbed out of bed. Crossing the floor to the doorway required stepping over no less than four sleeping crewmembers and Will, the latter being a surprise. Perhaps someone had finally persuaded him to get some sleep. Or maybe he had passed out drunk too.

Jack grabbed his sword on the way out and went downstairs to the tavern. He found Gibbs sitting by the fireplace nursing a rather large tankard. He looked up when Jack approached.

"Something wrong, Cap'n?"

"It's all yours, Mr. Gibbs," Jack said, still groggy from what little sleep he had gotten.

"Sir?" Apparently, Mr. Gibbs hadn't thought Jack would keep his word either.

"The bed," Jack clarified.

"Right, of course. But, uh, I could stay for a bit, if you want," Mr. Gibbs offered, looking concerned.

"No need," Jack replied. The last thing he wanted was the man's pity.

Gibbs hesitated, but finally, and thankfully, rose from his chair. "Then I'll see you in the morning."

Jack walked over and threw a couple of coins on the bar, receiving in return a bottle of questionable rum. It tasted watered down. He'd seen it before, pass the cheap stuff off on the non-locals and the inebriated, and watch the profit pile up. A few days ago, Jack would've complained or cajoled his way into getting a better bottle at a lower price, but tonight he didn't care. He wanted nothing more than to be left alone while he drank the sweetened bilge water in the dimly lit corner of the room.

The main part of the room was crowded with mercenaries, townsfolk, and honest sailors. It was fortunate for Jack and his crew's dire situation that they had come across such a bustling port. They were in need of a ship that could take them to Tia Dalma's, and one of the men in the tavern that evening would unknowingly become the key to their transport out of there.

Jack stared down at the bottle in his hands. Elizabeth had once told him that she thought rum was a vile drink that turned respectable men into complete scoundrels. Perhaps it was true. In his younger days he would've scoffed at the idea of having someone pay his life debt for him. Back then he'd had noble ideals and was certain he knew how the world worked. He was certain men were honorable. It wasn't until he had faced Beckett and knew with a frightening amount of clarity that he was going to die, that his perceptions had changed.

Now, he was willing to do anything to remain in this mortal realm, even if it meant taking actions that were neither noble nor honorable. He lied, he cheated, he killed, all to stay alive, and it had never once bothered him in thirteen years. Why would it? He was a pirate, he didn't care about anything except his own survival.

But then he met _her_ and things changed again. Suddenly, he found that the indifference was not as easy to affect in matters that involved Elizabeth. As evidenced by the way his most recent dishonorable act was eating away at him bit by bit, until all that was left was a man who couldn't even be bothered by the dreadful state of his alcohol. A man that was so devious and despicable that he watched a beautiful, innocent woman go to her death in his place. And for what? So that he could raid, pillage, and plunder like he had before? Somehow, the prospect of it all seemed less enticing now.

Jack choked down the bad rum in large mouthfuls, desperate for even a temporary reprieve from what he was feeling. As he neared the bottom of the bottle, however, he knew he wouldn't find it that night. He knew he wouldn't be able to move on with his life until Elizabeth had been rescued. She had believed in him until the very end, and he wasn't going to let her down. He was going to bring her back.

Determined anew, Jack got up from his lonely table and swaggered through the crowd, keeping a weather eye open for a prospective mark. He soon found one leaning against the bar.

"Hullo there, Tom," the barman greeted him, "I haven't seen you in awhile. How's business these days?"

"Never better," the well-dressed sailor Jack had been watching answered. "I finally bought a new ship to replace the one that had been attacked by those pirates a few years back. This one came with better armaments."

"Oh, is that your new ship I saw anchored out there next to the _Osprey_?"

"You saw the _Mary Grace_, did you? Beauty, ain't she? This is her maiden voyage. She's a feisty little thing, just like her namesake but we'll break her in soon enough."

"You making a short run over to Jamaica to try her out?"

"Oh no," Tom answered, "We're off to England in the morning. The lads just finished stocking her, so I thought I'd buy them all a round and we could celebrate before shipping out."

"You want it from the store room?"

"Yeah, yeah, give me the good stuff."

Jack mulled over his newly gathered information as the barman retrieved Tom's order. A new ship that was well stocked, heavily armed, and unguarded. It sounded promising. He'd go look it over and as long as it was something his small crew could handle, he'd wake them and they'd be out of this place long before sunrise.

xxx

Elizabeth opened her eyes and found that all she could see was blackness. She panicked for a moment before realizing that her hat had slipped down over her eyes while she slept. She lifted the brim up and squinted at the bright sunlight that greeted her. She stood, and when her eyes finally adjusted, she assessed her surroundings. She was on an island in the middle of the ocean. It reminded her of the island she had been stranded on with Jack. But this time she knew she wasn't stranded because she could see the _Pearl_ anchored just offshore.

She couldn't remember what she was doing on the island and figured the best course of action would be to head back to the _Pearl_ and find out. She just needed to find the longboat. The only trouble was, it was nowhere in sight.

"Looking for something, love?"

Elizabeth whirled around. "Jack, you startled me. Where's the longboat? How did we get here?"

"You don't remember?" he asked.

"No," she shook her head. "I don't even know why we're here."

"We're on holiday," he replied.

"And the rest of the crew?"

"It wouldn't be much of a holiday with them around, would it?"

"No, I suppose not," she conceded, but was confused nonetheless. It was the strangest sensation. She felt as though the answers were just out of her grasp and the harder she tried to reach them, the further away they got.

Jack interrupted her thoughts by offering her a drink. "Rum?"

"Please." She took the bottle from him and swallowed down a generous amount. Slowly, her worries faded into the background.

She watched Jack dance like a fool, up and down the beach, while he sang at the top of his lungs, "We're devils, we're black sheep, we're really bad eggs! Dance with me, Lizzie!" He hooked her arm as he passed by and swung her around with him.

"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!" Elizabeth sang along with him.

Jack tripped and brought the two of them crashing down to the sand. Elizabeth landed on her back and laughed like she hadn't in a very long time.

"You like being here, don't you?" Jack asked, rolling over, so that he pinned her to the sand.

"I do," she admitted. "I used to dream of being stranded on an island with you again."

"And here you are," he said.

"Here I am."

Jack leaned down closer to Elizabeth and her heart started beating faster. She was sure he was going to kiss her. As she waited with anticipation, she became aware of a whooshing, crashing wave kind of sound off in the distance. Elizabeth turned her head and saw that the tide was rushing out at an alarming rate. Further and further out it went, increasing the size of the island. Soon, it would reach the _Pearl_ and they'd be stranded for real.

"Look at me, love," Jack said, turning her head back to him.

"But Jack! The tide—the _Pearl_—"

"Shh, it doesn't matter." Jack finally leaned down and gave her the kiss she had craved, but something wasn't right. His lips were cold and rough, his hands burned her where they made contact, and suddenly she felt dizzy and then everything went black.

xxx

As they sailed further north, Jack decided that he didn't really care for newly built ships. No, he'd much rather his ships be worn in and have character. He sighed. Perhaps he just missed the _Pearl_. In truth, the _Mary Grace_ wasn't actually a bad ship, it was just that the wood of the rail wasn't very smooth, and it didn't have that familiar mildew smell below deck yet. Most disappointing, was that the fact that it was only about three-quarters as fast as the _Pearl_. At least they'd had an easy time of procuring it. That was the one thing that had gone right with his plan.

Oh, sure, when they reached Tia Dalma's home in the swamp, she had appeared to be all too willing to join them in their quest to save Elizabeth, but Jack soon found out that her helpfulness came at a price. She knew just the man that could navigate them to the world's end, she told them, and if they wanted to succeed, he'd have to come along. Fine, whatever, Jack had agreed in haste. And that was how he'd wound up with his arch nemesis on board.

Barbossa and his horrible hat-stealing monkey seemed perfectly comfortable at the helm of the _Mary Grace_, navigating them all toward a place unknown. It was not an ideal situation by any stretch of the imagination, but unfortunately, Jack had no other options.

"I don't like this, Cap'n," Gibbs said, voicing his concern for what must have been the tenth time since leaving the bayou a few hours ago. "I don't think I need to remind you that a couple of our crew members served under Barbossa for quite some time." He nodded in the direction of Pintel and Ragetti, who were now chatting happily with Barbossa.

"Ah, and you're worried that my formerly dead former first mate is planning another mutiny?"

"The thought had crossed my mind."

"Well, you can uncross it, mate, at least for the time being. They're after my piece of eight and them receiving it is contingent on the safe retrieval of Elizabeth and the _Pearl_ and our collective return to familiar waters. So, a mutiny would not be in their best interests."

Mr. Gibbs' gaze flicked up to Jack's forehead. "Do they know…?"

Jack shook his head, causing the trinkets in his hair to jingle softly. "They think it's on the _Pearl_."

"But, Jack, if they're gathering the pieces of eight, they could only want one thing."

"A truly disconcerting notion, I know, but we'll have plenty of time to think of a way to stop them. Apparently there's a long journey ahead of us."

xxx

Elizabeth surveyed the land around her from the crow's nest. Her current location was more desolate than any other place she'd ever been in her life. It reminded her of a painting she'd seen once of the deserts in Egypt. Except there were no pyramids and no palm trees, only the _Black Pearl_ and miles of white sand, stretching out in all directions.

It certainly was very lonely here. Where did everyone go? If she had no crew, how could she have sailed here? And where was the ocean? Elizabeth paused for a moment. Why were those things important again? She shrugged and slid down the rope, landing with a dull thud on the deck. Today, she had a lot of work ahead of her and she wasn't going to let anything or anyone get in the way.

It took her a while, but she finally managed to patch the hole in the main sail. If the tide ever came in, and the wind picked up, she might have half a chance of sailing away. Where was she going again?

"Elizabeth, darling!" Jack shouted as he came up the stairs to join her on deck.

"Oh, it's you," she replied flatly. She had no use for lazy crewmembers today.

"That's it? I don't get a kiss?"

"No. No!" she repeated forcefully. "You stay away. Every time we kiss…"

He tilted his head to the side and looked at her curiously. "What, love?"

"I don't know, but I get the sense that I have to start all over again."

"Poppycock." He slowly walked closer.

"Stay back, or I'll—I'll shoot you!" she threatened.

"You won't," he challenged.

"I will." She tried to feign confidence, but her hand noticeably trembled as she raised the gun. His smug grin mocked her and he closed the distance between them to mere inches. Before Elizabeth knew what was happening, her gun went off with a sudden bang, causing her to take a startled step back.

Jack looked down at the hole in his chest and then back up at Elizabeth. "I liked this coat," he said with a frown, as though it were ruined because someone had spilled tar on it.

Elizabeth stared, horrified, at the dark red blood now seeping through and staining the cloth. "Jack, I didn't mean—" and before she could say another word, he disappeared.

"He wasn't any good anyway," the voice from behind her said. Elizabeth spun around and saw Jack standing there, except he wasn't wearing a coat like he had been when she had shot him. She wondered where he'd come from.

"Oi! I'm plenty good," the first, coat wearing, Jack said, reappearing to her left. "She likes it when I kiss her."

"I do not," Elizabeth argued.

"Do too," the old Jack countered.

"Do not," she protested again.

"Do too," the new Jack added.

"Do not." She shot the new Jack and he disappeared.

"Good job, love. It was getting a little too crowded here for my tastes," the first Jack said. "Now, how about that kiss?"


End file.
